“Let everything happen to you: beauty and terror. Just keep going.”
— Rainer Maria Rilke
Thursday was not exactly my finest day on the Evliya Çelebi Way.
It began the night before, really, when I came off a mountain to find I was ten kilometers away from Çukurca, the village I had been aiming for.
A farmer on a blue tractor informed me of this fun fact, directing me to the nearby town of Dominiç instead. My warm hotel room and hot dinner there were little consolation from what was a running theme this past week on the trail: I kept getting myself fantastically, hopelessly lost.
Thursday morning, I woke early, caught a dolmuş (minibus) from Dominiç to Çukurca, and began walking, determined not to lose my way again.
It also happened to be my first day of rain in Turkey, and I wanted to welcome its presence. I wanted to put on my black rain mac and swathe my backpack in the folds of its built-in neon orange rain cover. I wanted to walk for miles in the misty showers breathing in the scent of juniper trees, which were also making their first appearance on the trail that morning.
Instead, I walked in circles, or what felt like them, in search of the day’s first major landmark – the turbë, or tomb, of an early Ottoman saint named Selim Baba. Instead, I turned what should have been an hour’s walk to the turbë into two and a half hours, not least because I kept stopping to scrape the mud off my shoes. Instead, I cursed the skies, my guidebook – whose pages grew wetter until I was practically peeling them apart – and mostly myself, for insisting on doing this trek sans GPS.
It was only when going back down a hill I’d already tried, when I’d decided I would just walk the road as far as it took me, that I came to the junction mentioned in my guidebook and the quite unmissable turbë.
I was fuming – and if we’re being honest here, in tears. Where was my shepherd in the woods? Where was my clarinet-playing bakkal owner?
It was as if the rain itself had washed away the magic of this path.
From the turbë, I had a single half hour in which I knew where I was and where I was going. The sense of direction was pure bliss, and I took things slow and examined every step. I sensed when I’d missed a big oak tree the guidebook said I should see, retraced my steps, and sure enough, there it was, down a different path. I counted out every 500 meters, watched the clock, and tried to keep to every line of the directions.
But things went wrong again at a strip of poplar trees, when the rain picked up and began to blow sideways.
I saw a goat in India once, as we were descending the hills of Meghalaya on the first day of the Rickshaw Run. It was pouring, the post-monsoon clouds wringing out the last of their reserves, and we were all bitterly soaked. So was this goat, but still he stood on a bench next to a house, pressing himself lengthwise against the wall, in hopes of obtaining even a modicum of shelter beneath the narrow overhang of the house’s roof.
I wish I had a photo of the goat to offer you – alas, we were mainly focused on keeping our rickshaw upright at the time and didn’t snap one – but what I can offer is the mental image of yours truly huddled below a stand of poplar trees in the Anatolian countryside, not unlike that goat.
Poplar trees, as you might know, are not particularly expansive. In fact, their branches have this tendency to shoot straight up into the sky.
I ignored this fact on Thursday. All that mattered was that for the five minutes in which I took cover beneath their branches, the rain didn’t seem to blow quite so hard or as cold. Right.
Eventually I kept going and passed a farmhouse, where twelve ducks had corralled themselves inside the barn and were huddling together in a single mass out of the rain. Ducks being aquatic birds, whose very name comes from the Old English word for “diver.”
You know when the ducks are in the barn that things aren’t looking good.
A few minutes later down the road, I saw another farmhouse and thought I would ask for directions to Seydikuzu, the next village I needed to reach. It was supposed to be my halfway point of the day, but given how the walk was going, I would be all too happy simply to reach it before nightfall. I knocked on the door of the farmhouse and waited.
I would pay serious money to see myself as I must have appeared to the couple who answered the door, two empty nesters named Mehmet and Fatima. It isn’t as if foreigners go walking by their house every day – what must they have thought of this strange young woman standing on their threshold, all on her own?
I had been walking for four hours in the rain and showed every minute of it. My hat was a lump of wet yarn on my head, mud was clumped three inches thick to the bottom of my shoes, and my backpack was sagging in all its 50-pound glory like a dead body wrapped in neon orange plastic.
If Mehmet seemed bewildered, Fatima was appalled. She practically dragged me into their house and sat me in front of the stove in their living room. I was stripped of my rain jacket, which was laid out across a burlap sack of pinecones to dry by the fire, and given a black cardigan to wear instead. She had set down her knitting needles – she was working on a pair of socks for their 3-year-old grandson – and served me tea, olives, and potato börek. They invited me to sleep there, and after the morning I’d had, I desperately wanted to, with every wet and miserable cell in my wet and miserable body.
I’ve recently developed a new technique for communicating on this path. While I still employ as much Turkish as possible, I’ve also started saying exactly what I mean in English, too, hoping – inşallah – that some vague particle of meaning will be transmitted through body language and earnest gestures.
“I would love to stay with you,” I told Fatima, “but I must keep walking.”
The couple accepted this – a fact for which I am grateful, for if they hadn’t, or if they’d tried to convince me again to stay, I’m not sure I would have had the willpower to refuse.
Mehmet began to put on layers – hat, sweater, camouflage-print coat– and tucked his pant legs into his socks like I’ve seen so many other farmers here do. Meanwhile, Fatima began clearing out the trailer of their tractor. I thought for a moment that Mehmet was planning to drive me to Seydikuzu and nearly protested this, until suddenly he lifted my backpack from the earth and Fatima hurried to help him slip his arms through the straps.
Mehmet, I realized, was going to lead me through the fields to the next road I needed to walk.
A number of other thoughts came to me as I hurried to keep up with Mehmet, who walked at a surprising pace while talking out loud to himself. (Although I’m not sure what he was saying, I can’t imagine it was anything like: “What a delightful way to spend the afternoon! I couldn’t be happier to be wearing this backpack right now!”)
I thought about how nice it was to walk without fifty pounds of gear on my back, and how ridiculous I must look to anyone who sees me with said gear on my back, especially with its neon orange rain cover on.
I thought about how nice it was not to have to worry about the way for once, to simply follow someone and have footsteps to follow, and how nice it was to have someone to walk with.
And the final thing I realized, on a rainy Thursday afternoon in Turkey, is that the path knows exactly what we need and when.
Warmth.
Shelter.
Direction.
A guide.
It’s up to us, then, to trust the path and its provision. The path, like life itself, is always right.
Oh my Lord have mercy. I am seriously laughing out loud and crying at the same time. I read this to your father. He shakes his head. It helps that I “heard” this story this afternoon via Skype….but the pictures speak volumes. I wish I could see the ducks. The goat in India. YOU, under said poplar trees that serve useless in protecting you from sideways rain and wind. Oh dear me. Keep trekking….the story is unfolding…one sweet couple at a time. I think they were angels in disguise.
What a fascinating story and a lovely couple indeed. It never feels that way at the time but always the most memorable moments and most important are the most trying. You are on the path you are meant to be on surely even when you are lost. I look forward to hearing more stories from Turkey, thanks for a wonderful peek into life there along the Evliya Celebi way. Certainly off the beaten path indeed.
This is what pilgrimage is about…being open to whatver the experience. I know I had some moments myself while walking in Spain where the rain was pouring down and all I could do was continue walking and laughing at the same time because there was nothing I could do about it! The blessing was in the pilgrims I met later that day who then shared their umbrellas with me. You are inspiring me to try some trekking in Turkey now. Not knowing any Turkish, I am not sure how I would do!
I loved reading your story. Felt as if I really connected with you – and I urge you to keep writing. In fact, I read quite a few of your stories 🙂
This one makes me think of the better things the universe has in store for us, even though when it all seems quite bleak. I’m in that bleak place, and I’m trying desperately to get out of it, and I’m trying, to trust the path I’m taking.
Travel safe, and if you’re ever in Singapore, do drop me an email. I’ll love to buy you a meal and hear more of your stories.
What a beautifully told story, love the pics too!
Beautiful story! I’m so touched by the kindness of strangers you’ve experienced throughout this hike, Candace! The world really is full of good people!
Such a beautiful story Candace, and the photos are simply wonderful. I love the way you unknowingly weave these human encounters into your journey, each one so pure and enchanting. But I seriously can’t believe you are carrying that HUGE backpack with you!!! Though having seen the bags you had in India, I guess that is travelling light for you 😉
I’m glad that the trail provided what you needed when you needed it. Life is like that – always seeming the worst before it gets better. Your photos are really inspiring 🙂
The last part made me teary eyed.
“…the path knows exactly what we need and when.
Warmth.
Shelter.
Direction.
A guide.
It’s up to us, then, to trust the path and its provision. The path, like life itself, is always right.”
Such a lovely story of human kindness!
Thank you, Erica! I’m so glad you enjoyed the story – I loved sharing it here and am excited to share more soon from the trek 🙂
What a brilliant story! Your photos are stunning too. I hope to cycle this path solo in 2014. I can’t wait!
Thank you, Martin! It’s awesome to hear you’re thinking of cycling the path next year…villagers often asked if I had a bicycle with me, so I’m sure they’ll love seeing you arrive in their village on one 🙂 Also, I’m not sure if you saw it or not, but I recently posted this guide to the Evliya Çelebi Way, so feel free to take a look at it and let me know if there’s anything I can help with!
And thank you too Candace. I’ve read your guide which is very helpful. I’ve got the official guide book now too which I’ve looked through. I’ve also uploaded the GPS coordinates onto GAIA (mapping software) and had a brief look at the route. (BTW, if you’ve not looked at GAIA yet, I recommend that you check it out.) The GPS waymarks seem to approximate many parts of the route. I really want to follow the proper trail but suspect that to do this will be quite time consuming as reference to the guide book notes will be required. That’s not very practical on a bike. I just want to look at a detailed map and follow the line of the route. It’s so much quicker to do this (well for me it is). I suspect I may end up bypassing some parts of the of the off-road sections even though I do not want to. It would be good to get hold of a more accurate GPS route, if anyone has recorded one. I’m aiming to do it at a fairly leisurely pace and I plan to do 35 to 50 miles per day, so I expect it to take 7 to 10 days. I’ve done quite a few day rides in Turkey (along side parts of the Lycian Way) when I’ve been there on summer holidays so I’ve an idea of the conditions. They do seem to like to build some brutally steep roads. I speak Turkish at intermediate level so this will be a big help. I’ve done unsupported 5 day mountain bike tours in the UK and week long unsupported walks on sections of Wainwright’s coast to coast and the Pennine Way. Though unsupported none of these tours were solo trips. Even so, I’m sure that I’ll cope OK. I’m aiming to go in May which should not be too warm for cycling. I’m not planning on taking a tent because I want to travel as light as possible. I’d be interested on any thoughts you have on my plans. Thanks.
Hi Martin
Very interested to see that you are planning on cycling the Evliya Celebi Way as I am planning on doing the same this year in April.
Like you, I have been trying to find a decent GPX file of the route but have not been successful yet. I may end up entering the waypoints into an website like ridewithgps.com and then loading the route and maps onto a Garmin eTrex.
What type of bike are you planning to use? I was planning on using a decent drop handlebar touring bike with 35C tyres and being prepared to take roads where the tracks become too difficult. I see you have ridden parts of the Lycian Way, what bike did you use for that?
Cheers
Ian
great to read all your experiences on the trail, sounds like a beautiful trek! Also checked out your blog Michael, that was very helpful, good advice on cycling the route. I’m cycling through turkey at the moment, stitching a few of the cultural routes together into a longer tour, planning to ride part of the evliya celebi to Kutahya, then to Ankara & the black sea via the Phrygian Way & Independence Trail. I’m running a bikepacking setup on a 26″ mtb for the evilly celebi leg, and will then pick up my panniers in Kutahya for the rest of the journey. Haven’t found any detailed info on cycling the Phrygian Way, but the route seems flatter overall so should be able to do it with panniers. Here in Istanbul trying to get the GPS points for Phrygian Way, fingers crossed that’s relatively simple, very excited for the trip!
–
Patrick
Ian, many thanks for your reply. I’ve recently bought a heavily discounted Genesis Fortitude Explorer, the one with the Alfine 11 hub gears. I wanted something that could take some off road abuse and still be reliable. I haven’t really used it yet but plan to lower the gearing for this trip. With regard to the Lycian Way, I worded my post very carefully! I’ve done some of the road sections around Kalkan and Kaş and used a rented mountain bike (from Dragoman in Kaş). I did very little of the off road sections. My original plan was to ride the Lycian Way but it’s not really feasible unless you are young, superfit and a very skilled mountain biker (so that rules me out on the first two counts and a good part of the third one!). Even so, doing it solo and unsupported I think there are risks of not completing the ride. Some of the paved roads in that area are very, very steep and I wouldn’t have been able to ride them without mountain bike gearing. The actual Lycian Way track is also very steep and broken up in many places. I do know of at least one Turkish guy who rode part of it and pushed and carried his bike the rest of the way but that’s not my idea of cycling. You could still put together a decent ride that used the tarmac roads alongside most parts of the Lycian Way and I did consider this but when you look at the amount of climbing – it is still very challenging. I seem to recall there are many days of 2 to 3,000 metres of accumulated ascent. This is why I’m planning to do the Evliya Çelebi way. I think your bike will be fine and assuming it is a triple I would still put on the lowest gears you can. If you know the highest passes in the UK Lake District, there are many roads this steep in Turkey as 25% and 30% gradients are not uncommon but I guess you know full well what you can cope with.
For mapping, so I’ve only used the GAIA GPS on my iPhone which I’ve now uploaded the EÇW route onto. You can down load their maps off line so you don’t incur roaming charges and then just use the GPS for route finding and or location checking. There seems to be enough detail for all the raods on the EÇW but some of the tracks are not shown. This App has worked well on my holidays last year in Turkey, Canary Islands and the UK but you do have to keep an eye on battery use. I’m sure it is available for Androids too. For back up, I’ll take another phone or I’ll buy a basic GPS and I’ll take the guide book but I really hope I don’t have to resort to using it! Anyway keep me posted with your preparations. Are you planning to do the whole EÇW route?
Hi Martin, thanks for the feedback. The guides say that the Lycian Way is do-able by bike, but it sounds like it is more suitable of full on mountainbiking without touring gear, so my concern was that the Evliya Celebi Way could be similar, although reading Candace’s blog, it sounds like it should be easier. Also from looking at the map, there should be lots of alternative routes on paved roads.
Steep hills on tarmac are not a problem (my back door is the Yorkshire Dales), but I may need to consider lower gearing if the surface is not so good in places!
The nice thing about the Garmin eTrex is that it takes replaceable batteries so as long as you take spares, you don’t need to worry about it running out of power. I used it last year for a tour in S Albania, as well as using it in the UK.
I’ll have 2 weeks, so am hoping to do the whole of the route. There will be 2 of us so we will be able to split camping gear, although we may not take cooking equipment so we can keep the weight down.
How long are you planning to take?
Hello again, Martin and Ian! I’m not much of a cyclist, so I’m afraid I don’t have a lot of input to add regarding equipment, gradients, etc., but I just wanted to say how thrilled I am you’re both planning to cycle the ECW this year. One person who might be worth speaking with is Huseyin Eryurt, who works for the Turkish Culture Routes Society. If you’d like me to connect you with him, please feel free to send me an email at [email protected]. All the best to you both as you plan for your trips – I can’t wait to hear how they go!
Hi Ian, yes there is a lot less climbing on the ECW though it certainly is not flat in many places and yes, it should be easy to skirt around some of the off road sections on minor roads. I expect these will be in quite poor condition in some places though. It sounds like you live not too far from me – I live near York. For your GPS I’m sure you’ll have no trouble getting AA batteries along the way (if this is what is uses). What will you use for mapping software please? I’m sure you’ll be able to do the full route quite easily in two weeks. I’m think about 7 to 10 days riding time but I want to enjoy the experience and not spend all my time on the bike. I will not take any cooking equipment. This will force me to spend more time with local people and will increase my immersion. I suspect you’ll not find much English spoken outside of the bigger towns and cities, though anyone that does speak English will be very keen to try it out on you. There is some very useful vocab in the official ECW guide and you will be fine with this for basic transactions. My main tip is to learn how to pronounce words as accurately as possible. This isn’t too hard but the grammar is. If you try to pronounce words with English pronunication you will not be understood most of the time. Look at http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CmaG0ML8TnA&list=PL5EEF8752277213CE to start with.
Candace, thanks for the offer of the introduction to Huseyin and I sent you a separate email.
Hi Martin,
Yes we are quite close, I live up near Masham so if you want to meet up to compare plans etc, let me know. I will pass my email address on to Candace and ask her to pass it on to you. We can then maybe take the discussion off Candace’s blog!
Are you a member of the Clifton Cycle Club? I go out on their Sunday runs sometimes.
Candace: Thanks for the blog, it is a great read and resource, and the photos give a good idea of what the track is like! I’ll send you a separate email.
Absolutely! I’m really glad you guys could connect, and I’m wishing you all the best on your journeys. PS – Take lots of notes – I’d love for you both to share about your experiences here 🙂
Hi … just discovered your beautiful writings and … the words you speak somehow resonate so well with me as if I know you … yet the adventures you have … I have not had … but the beauty is reading your writings. I love the way you describe things. Also the way you described the man that finished the walk with you when you said how nice it was to have someone to follow and not worry simply reminds me of Jesus and perhaps how when we are lost … He always shows up 🕊
Dear Michele, what a wonderful comment this was to receive — thank you so much for your note and kind words about my writing, I’m so blessed to hear this story resonated with you. All the very best to you, Candace <3